


Y is for the yo-yo, I yank upon your string,  while I watch you yell and holler with all the pleasure that it brings!

by SuperWoman0124



Series: ABC's of Kinky Sex- Dean/Sam [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Attempt at angst, Bottom Sam, Boyking Sam, Cuddles, Fingering, First Kiss, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, Sex, Spit As Lube, Top Dean, Wincest - Freeform, admittal of feelings, experimenting with powers, just some hardcore winchester feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 11:23:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4058170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperWoman0124/pseuds/SuperWoman0124
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam goes to Hell. Naturally, Dean follows. Also naturally, Sam gets pissed.  They kiss and make up. (Part of my ABC's of Kinky Sex Series, but they're all non-related.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Y is for the yo-yo, I yank upon your string,  while I watch you yell and holler with all the pleasure that it brings!

**Author's Note:**

> (Part of my ABC's of Kinky Sex Series) This is set directly after Swan Songs, Season 5. I have so many different headcanons for what happened to Sam down there. This wasn't one of them, but after I thought about it, the idea flourished. I like a sexy Sam in power. 
> 
> This isn't as kinky as I wanted it to be, but it's adorable, so I'll let it pass. It's feels porn. The beginning is brief and I wanted to go into more detail, but I felt it unnecessary. 
> 
> Guys, I seriously suck at summaries, so thanks for being here. :D

It all started with a plunge to the purple deep. Sam sacrificed himself to save the world, his brother and everyone in it. 

 

When Sam went to hell, he lost everything. He lost his will, he lost his brother, he lost his reason to even live. The only thing fueling him was the merciless rounds of torture and questions, vengeance becoming his new passion. The guilt and anger splayed plainly on his face until he became compliant, once he begged for them to stop, answered their questions, then, and only then, would they tear him apart, piece by piece and give him the rest he needed. 

 

Once he woke up, right back onto the racks he went. Over. and Over. and Over. 

 

and Sam did his time in hell. Too long was he pushed around, tortured, beaten before he pushed back. Fought back. Biting, kicking, screaming, fighting. Everything. 

 

Until he pushed himself so hard, he regained his powers and smoked a few demons. 

 

So they did what demons do. They saw power greater than theirs, and they promoted him. Pulled him off the racks and into a position of power. 

 

It was alright for awhile. Sam missed simple life where an every day routine didn't involve ripping demons apart. It was kind of ironic. Some part of Sam missed his brother, and hoped that Dean had kept his promise of an apple pie life. The other part of Sam couldn't care less. Sam grew cold with time, uninfluenced by sob stories, hardened by the harsh life bestowed on him. But God, did the good half miss Dean. It had felt like 15 years and he missed the stupid sarcasm, his bad eating habits and his idiotic wit, and his cocky smile and.. and.. no, he didn't miss Dean at all. If he never saw Dean again, it would be a blessing. Especially if he saw him _here._

 

It started with whispers. Demons slinking into corners of the room, whispering in each other's ears and leaving abruptly. Sam let it slide for awhile, until he heard one part of the conversation he couldn't let go. 

 

"Dean Winchester." 

 

That; he couldn't let slide. 

 

He stood up, cutting off the demon speaking directly to him and bellowed. 

 

_**"What do you know about my brother?!?"**_

 

"H-He's hhh-here, ss-sir. In hell. He f-followed you here." 

 

Sam was furious. How could he? He promised. He fucking promised. 

 

"How long? How long has he been here?" 

 

"A while, sir. He's been be-begging for you." 

 

Sam split the mewling demon in half with a snap of his fingers before he could even think twice. 

 

Sam paced the entrance to the space where Dean was being held, fighting himself not to freak out. Stay calm. He worried his fingertips between his palms, grinding his teeth in whatever unknowable anger was slowly creeping up his spine. 

 

Sam busted through the door, welcomed by his brother's smirking face and let out a surprised, but mostly silent gasp. Dean was messed up. Sam had seem him bad, but _damn._ This was bad. Dean's left eye was swollen almost all the way shut, his shirt was torn, red slashes peeking through the bits of fabric and a wide split across his bottom lip could be seen in the shadow where Dean dropped his head. 

 

Dean was on his knees on the floor, faded blue-jeans splotched with patches of dark and wet crimson. He arms splayed wide, the support of the thick chains bolted to the floor stretched them out so he couldn't fight back. 

 

"Hiya, Sammy." When Dean smirked, his teeth were stained red with the un-discarded blood swirling in his mouth. 

 

Sam paced back and fourth across the tile floor, little clicks of his boots echoing through the silent room. Sam shoved his bangs back and carded his hand through his hair, heaving a heavy sigh. He dropped his hand to run it along the scruff of his cheek. 

 

"You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna get me out of here?" Dean's unswollen eye winked, that sideways smirk lifting the right side of Dean's perfect full lips before he turned his palms up. 

 

Sam looked at him in disbelief and scoffed, calmly pulling the knife from his left jacket pocket. 

 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Sammy. No need to get all American Psycho on me." 

 

Sam rushed at Dean, anger so hot he could feel it pooling in his stomach. He jolted the 7 inch blade to Dean's neck, the sharp glint catching Dean's eye as he peered down to it. 

 

"Why are you here?" 

 

"I was in the neighborhood." Dean shrugged noncommittally, the chains clanking with the easy drop of his shoulders, not an ounce of worry in his eyes. "Thought I'd drop by." 

 

Sam pulled the knife back and switched it to his left hand. He reared back and backhanded Dean across his left cheek. Right below his wounded eye. 

 

Dean hissed, laughing the pain off as he bent at the waist. 

 

"You think this is a joke?" Sam grabbed Dean's jaw with his fingers, clenching tightly, waiting for the wince. Dean stared back dangerously, not backing down. 

 

"Why are you here?" Sam switched his eyesight from Dean's right eye to his swollen left, watching for an ounce of forfeit. 

 

"Thought about moving to Texas." Dean spoke through clenched teeth. "Wanted to see if I could take the heat." 

 

Sam stood up again, backhanding the exact same spot as before. That time, Dean did groan in pain, moving to straighten his back and crudely spit blood into a puddle on the floor in front of his knees. 

 

"Stop wasting my time!" Sam returned with a new fervor, returning the blade into Dean's neck. "Why. are. you. here?" The knife blade pressed into Dean's jugular and Dean could feel the blood seeping down his shirt. Their faces were so close that the shared oxygen between them felt stale as Dean's tongue peeled away from the roof of his mouth and he licked the blood away from his lip. 

 

"Alright, enough!" Dean huffed a breath and smirked as Sam dropped the knife, standing his tall frame and throwing his arms out. Dean looked down and began staring at a fleck of blood on his knee. "You can't tan like this in Florida." 

 

"I'm done with you." Sam turns, his heavy boots dragging in the opposite direction that his body wants to go and he opens the door with a heavy sigh and an eye roll. 

 

"Alright, alright!" Dean called out after his brother, reaching out with the only thing he could at the moment. His voice. Sam didn't turn around, in case this was another joke. "I-I'm afraid to be alone!" 

 

"You're pathetic." Sam mumbled, loud enough for Dean to hear, but he still didn't turn. He didn't want to see that sad, sappy face in these "chick flick moments." He wanted to hate him. So much it hurt. But that was why it was called a 'sacrifice' and not a 'vacation'. 

 

"I've had to leave behind a lot of skeletons, but what makes you think, even for a second, that I'd just leave you down here?" Dean paused, gathering his thoughts and darting his tongue out to lick at the now gaping wound on his lip. "I've said it before and I'll say it again. Sammy, you're my brother. There's nothing I would put in front of you, including myself. I lost my halo a long time ago, and now? I belong here. With you." 

 

Sam cautiously turned, and took two steps forward, Dean's heavy breathing heard aloud in the silent air. 

 

"With me? Dean, do you even remember what our life was like? I'm happy here." 

 

"What? Sam, you're not happy here. You just think you are. So, I've come to you. So we.." Dean looked down, adjusting his grimace, working up the courage for his voice to not shake as badly. "So we can have a life together." 

 

Damn that asshole. How could he joke like that? 

 

"You confessing your love for me, big brother?" 

 

Dean shrugged, the chains rattling every time he moved. 

 

"Maybe." 

 

For someone tortured to the point of almost death, Dean still had that cocky sense of humor. Stubborn bastard. 

 

"You were supposed to leave me here. You know that." Sam sighed and sat at the bed in the corner of the padded white room, realizing for the first time that he'd already given in. He dropped his head in his hands, smoothing back a stray hair that had loosened in the strain to get the truth out of Dean. 

 

"When have I ever listened before?" Dean shot a side glance at Sam who refused to look at him. Sam was angry. Furious, even, that Dean even thought this would be okay. 

 

"You’re wrong, Dean." Sam clenched his teeth and stood from the bed, straightening his back to show his full height. "You don't belong here, but I do." 

 

Brief flashes of Sam's life upstairs appeared before his eyes. Letting Dean go hungry while he ate as a kid. Greed. Gluttony. Stealing Joe Rosen's backpack because he thought Dean would like it. Envy. Beating a vamp's face in until he was unrecognizable because he'd threatened Dean. Wrath. After his growth spurt, his newly toned muscles went uncovered for a week, no matter how many times Dean begged he put some clothes on. Pride. Doing nothing to earn money when they had nothing as kids. Sloth. 

 

Coveting Dean. That was the worst one. He'd lusted after his brother for as long as he could remember, waiting until he looked away to count his freckles, worshipping Dean's sandy brown hair and how soft it was when he ran his fingers through the gelled spikes. Sam took a moment to collect himself, huffing an exhausted breath. He'd been denying that for entirely too long. That had been Sam's one regret. One thing about the fall that he'd beat himself up over. He'd never told Dean he loved him. He'd never wanted Dean to know. He was too good for that. 

 

"Sam, you're the last person who belongs here. You're the most goodie-two-shoes person I know!" Dean shouted across the room, face tensed and eyebrows raised. "Aside from that Ruby bitch and the blood drinking, I'd say you're a Saint." 

 

"Then you don't know me as well as you thought you did, Dean." Sam took two steps to where Dean was prone, kneeling to even their height. "I'm not 12 anymore. I have needs." Sam raised his fingers to Dean's tensed jaw, brushing his calloused fingers down the five o'clock shadow. "Wants. Things you don't even want to know. Things I've been hiding for years." 

 

"Look, Sam, I don't care about that! We've all got secrets! You just need to come ho-" 

 

"Home?" Sam interrupted. "Dean, we don't have a home! We never have! It's been shitty motel room after shitty motel room for as long as I can remember." Sam tore his fingers away from Dean's face and scowled, moisture gathering in the corner of his eyes that he couldn't shake off. 

 

"I do. Sam, it's when I'm with you! That's when I'm home. Doesn't matter if it's some abandoned house in Kansas, some cabin in Pennsylvania or a hotel on freakin' Mars! As long as I'm with you, nothing else matters!" Dean was huffing, his chest moving so fast, Sam thought he was having a heart attack. But his face remained grounded, wide unblinking eye(s) focused on the hazel ones staring back at him. 

 

Sam hadn't been this close to Dean in awhile. He could smell the coppery blood on his breath and their faces were mere inches from each other. Sam could feel a subtle current beneath his skin, where their noses almost touched, senses heightened as he breathed in the scent of his brother. Sam could lean forward and press his quivering lips into Dean's soft ones. He could do it. Dean would hate him. Probably forever, but at least he could do it. He could have this. This moment he's always dreamed of. He was in hell. In more than one sense of the word. 

 

"You promised. Does that mean nothing?" Sam's un-quivering gaze shot spikes through Dean's heart. 

 

"I found a way, Sammy. I found a way to get you home." 

 

"I told you. I. Don't. Belong. There." Sam watched as Dean's pupils dilated as he raised his voice, a sullen look a spread across his features. 

 

"Prove it." Dean dared, ripping his chin away from Sam's grasp, but not moving any farther away from his face. 

 

"What?" Sam's jaw dropped in disbelief and he had to hold back a scoff rising up his throat. 

 

"I don't believe you. You _don't_ belong down here. You're just too hard on yourself and you haven't realized you've given up! So, prove it." Dean's labored shallow breaths pressed between the gaps in his clenched teeth as he inched closer, their noses touching, and Sam could feel his blood boiling under his skin, Dean's dare singeing his nerves like wildfire. "Prove to me you're a monster." 

 

"Why should I prove anything to you?" Sam's gaze turned venomous. 

 

"Because I'm your brother. and I'm not gonna leave you alone 'til you do." 

 

"Maybe that's the problem, Dean." Sam held himself back. He wouldn't kiss him. He won't kiss him. _He will not kiss him._ He had to stand up. Now, before it was too late. He couldn't be this close to those burning glistening lips, those sinful cheekbones and the light dusting of freckles across his nose and **not** take advantage of his brother's forced willingness to submit. "Trust me, here. The only way I could prove it to you-" Sam huffed a breath he didn't know he was holding. "You'd never speak to me again." 

 

Dean tried to stand, yanked down by the chains immediately. 

 

"Haven't you been listening? Sammy, nothing you could do, or say, would push me away from you. We've been through hell. Both of us. Literally. And you're worried that I won't talk to you? You're insane if you think anything, and I mean anything, would stop me from lookin' after you." 

 

Sam growled, a low sound in his throat at first, erupting through his pursed lips and into their shared oxygen. They were so close, so so close, it was almost too much. Sam's heart raced with the anger bubbling inside his gut and the fierce passion his brother screamed in his face. Why couldn't he get it? Why didn't he just leave well enough alone? Dean would hate him for what he's done, what's he's thought, what he's guilty of. Maybe that's what he needed. _Dean to hate him._ So he could just leave him the hell alone. So Sam pushed, rearing himself up and letting go of every emotion he'd pushed down into his barren heart. 

 

And he kissed his brother. 

 

Sam's stiff lips mashed into Dean's teeth, wide eyes stuck on a shocked expression. Sam's life paused, stuck in the moment as his very being lifted, chest warming. Sam felt free, elated as Dean didn't pull back. A moment in slow motion felt like an eternity. An eternity Sam would gladly live in for the rest of his days. For a brief moment, one solidarity second, Sam felt weightless. Until he forced himself to pull back, gauging Dean's open expression. 

 

Dean's face couldn't have been more shocked. 

 

"Uhhhh." Was all that fell out of those cocky, sinful, sweet lips as Sam pulled back. "Oh." A shocked reply. " _Oh._ " As if it all suddenly made sense. 

 

Sam was horrified. Had he really just done that? Did that really just happen? Sam searched for tangible truth, and licked his lips. He tasted heat and salt, blood, whisky and something very Dean. 

 

"S-uh-Sam." Dean sputtered, darting his tongue out to collect himself. 

 

Sam stood up. He couldn't take it anymore. After tasting Dean he wanted _more._ He paced the length of the room and slicked his hair back. Dean was silent, the shock still obvious on his face. 

 

"Say something. F-fuck, say anything." Sam worried his fingers, picking at his hang nails like chipped paint that wouldn't come off the walls in one piece. 

 

"Alright. W-well," Dean cleared his throat. "W-wasn't what I was expecting." Dean shrugged, his lips upturned. 

 

"Do you see it now, Dean? I'm a monster." Sam sat on the bed on the edge of the room, keeping as much distance between him and his brother as possible. "And I belong here." 

 

"What, because you k-kissed me?" Dean's voice shook as he spoke and Sam watched his adam's apple jump as he swallowed around his words. 

 

"No. Because-" Sam sighed. Fuck it. He's gotten this far. "Because I want more. Because as long as I can remember, you've been my everything. My best friend, my big brother, my hero. My-my reason... For everything. Because I wanted you to kiss me back." 

 

"Well you didn't actually give me a chance, man." Dean chuckled as he spoke, the light in his eyes flashing as he peered over to his brother, the purple of his swollen eye looking darker by the minute. 

 

Whoa. Did-did he just say- 

 

"Sammy, look. If this-" Dean used an index finger to point between himself and Sam, the chains bouncing with his movement and every sway. "Means you belong in hell, then you better save me a seat. Cause I'm here with you. 'Til the end. Since we're- uh- playing confessions here, there's something I should tell you." 

 

Dean looked at him with that charming smile, his split lip forgotten. "When mom was pregnant with you, I hated you." Dean's eyes tracked away, staring at nothing straight ahead. "I never wanted you to come out. I didn't like the idea of having a kid brother. And then you came, you were this cute little bundle with a head full of hair and those chubby red cheeks. When you were three days old, Dad set you in my arms and said what he's said to me a thousand times since then. 'Take care of Sammy.'" Dean scoffed, his eyes dropping to the floor. 

 

"Since the first time I held you, I've loved you, Sammy. More than anything else I could have possibly imagined. I don't know what it's like to love anything else. It's been-" Dean stopped, huffing a breath. "You, man. It's always been you." 

 

"Dean-" Sam attempted to interrupt. 

 

"Just... lemme finish, damnit. I'm on a roll, here." Dean sighed, sitting back on his haunches and looking back to the floor. 

 

"When you turned 17, and you got your first real girlfriend, that's when I knew. I knew it was..." Dean paused, piecing the words correctly like a jigsaw. " **More.** More than brothers are supposed to love each other. I mean, I literally have been to hell. Twice, now. When I got here the first time 'round, I thought I deserved it, too. But, hell, dying, nothing hurt more than pushing that down and telling myself how sick I was for it. How impossible it was for me to feel _that way_ for you. But you didn't deserve to have that kind of pressure put on you! So, I pushed it down. Held it back. Ratcheted every emotion I had down, other than keeping you alive. But I'm human. I slipped sometimes. But yeah, Sam. I know what you mean. I- uh. I _really_ know what you mean." 

 

A comfortable silence filled the room, both brothers reeling from the strong emotional charge and adrenaline pumping through their veins. They were silent for awhile, Sam collecting his thoughts and Dean not wanting to push Sam too far. 

 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sam could laugh if there was something to laugh about. Two kids avoiding each other, full of love and passion, held apart by their own brains. 

 

"Because you'd hate me. Well, I thought you would. And I felt like it was wrong, to want that. I didn't know you'd want that, too." 

 

"Well, I did." Sam spat out, his anger receding at Dean's admission. He'd followed him because he loved him. Dean loved him. Sam still had a hard time believing that. 

 

"Well, good." 

 

"Fine." Sam felt childish in his one word answer, but honestly, what else was there to say? Sam waited a beat, ignoring his racing pulse just waiting for Dean to say something. He didn't know what he expected. "Now what?" 

 

"I don't know." Dean chuckled lightly, raising a hand to his split lip as he fingered the gap lightly. "I've never told anyone I loved them before." 

 

"What do we do?" 

 

"Whatever we want. If you wanna go home, if you want to stay here, I don't care." 

 

"That's-" Sam smoothed a hand through his hair, biting his lower lip as he peered at the remaining glow his brother gave off. "That's not what I meant." 

 

"Oh." Dean thought for a moment. "I'm not really sure." 

 

"You're a lot of help." Sam gave an honest eyeroll, suspecting that Dean enjoyed playing dumb. 

 

He stood up and casually strides over to Dean, sinking to his knees in front of him. The height difference still made Dean look up to look at Sam's face. Dean was a wreck. Sam raised his fingers to Dean's chest and felt his heartbeat thump across his fingertips, the blood had clotted, drying in tight flakes across the open wounds. Sam laid his palm flat across his chest, the wide span of his palm engulfing Dean's left peck. Sam looked up at Dean and placed his left hand over Dean's swollen eye, closing his eyes to focus. He could do this. _For Dean._

 

Sam felt a warm tingle that started at the base of his spine, let it grow across his back, seep into his muscles like a deep burn. He was afraid, but he pushed on, let it spread to his arms, a flaming spasm down every vein and nerve ending. It grew to his fingers, eliciting a low gasp as he felt the connection, he could feel Dean's quickened heart pumping blood in his head, he could feel Dean's weak body grow stronger and more alert. He felt a blazing light flash and when he opened his eyes, Dean was smiling back at him, perfect green eyes staring, amazed. Sam removed his hand from Dean's chest and it was clean, no scaring, no blood, no gashes. Sam had really freakin' done it. He had the ability to heal. 

 

"Dude, I'm kinda freaking out right now." Dean pulled at his chains, trying to clasp his fingers around Sam's, but he was stopped. 

 

"Me t-too. That's the first time I've d-done anything good with it." 

 

"What if you'd.. you know.. _not_ healed me? Burned me up instead?" 

 

"I'd never have done that." Sam ducked closer, feeling Dean's warm breath across his lips. 

 

"Yeah, but what if you did?" 

 

Sam moved his hand into Dean's, entwining his fingers with his big brother's. 

 

"Then I would have burnt with you, jerk." 

 

A brief moment of silence between them passed as they realized the density of the situation. Sam would have given his life for his brother, a million times over. Without a second's thought otherwise. and Dean would have done the same. **Had** done the same. _Will always_ do the same. I guess everyone was right. They really are psychotically, irrationally, erotically codependent. 

 

"Shut up and kiss me, you idiot." 

 

Sam finally _finally_ swooped in to capture his brother's lips again, moaning into his open mouth. Dean felt just like he'd imagined. Sam laced his fingers into the gaps of Dean's shirt and ran his fingertips down his brother's chest, the other hand still tightly encased between Dean's. 

 

Dean tasted natural, like soil and sweat, and his sweet, slick lips smoothly glided against Sam's sandpaper ones, exchanging the lightest of touches. This was still odd for them both, not the action, but the thought that this was actually happening. Sam pushed first, his tongue working between Dean's partially spread lips, and Dean wordlessly accepted, curling his tongue against his baby brother's. Dean's saliva was sweet, like crisp apples and Sam pushed into the kiss, adding pressure to the tips of his fingers and moaning, the kiss becoming feverous and warped from something passionate into something animalistic. 

 

Dean parted as Sam framed his face in his hands, his gruff, unshaven cheeks lit up brightly as Sam gaped into the bright green eyes he's always adored, always worshipped, always wanted. 

 

Sam thrust forward, his hardness becoming apparent on Dean's thigh and when Dean felt it, he elicited a lustful gasp. Sam ground his hips into Dean's in tight little turns, bowing to mouth at Dean's neck. Dean huffed a breath, raising his head to let Sam have better access. Sam stopped, his chest contracting with every labored breath. 

 

"Let's go home." Sam mumbled, looking up and relaxing his neck to touch his forehead against Dean's. 

 

"Not yet." Dean huffed, his pulse rapid, his breath uneasy, and his palms sweaty. "There are things I want to do to you that would absolutely send me to hell. So, when in Rome, right?" 

 

Sam let out a lighthearted chuckle, his wide eyes refocused on Dean's sinful smile. 

 

"Whatever you want." 

 

"Stand up." Dean commanded, a special glint in his eye that Sam always knew was mischievous. Sam complied, glaring down his brother on his knees. "I've always wanted to do this to you." 

 

Dean pulled his arms up, the chains around his wrists untangling and stopping short just outside of his reach of Sam's worn leather belt. Dean let out a soft chuckle, wiggling his fingers. 

 

"D'ya mind?" 

 

Sam turned and quickly walked to the door, knocking twice and he exited briefly, closing the door behind him. He came back, with 2 keys in his hand and moved to Dean, unlocking his wrists, left one first. Dean pulled his arms together, rubbing his wrists in turn. 

 

"C'mere." Dean waved a hand in a beckoning gesture. 

 

Sam strode over, hands on his hips and stood out of Dean's reach. Dean slid forward, pulling at Sam's belt to loosen the buckle, pawing at the button and ripping the zipper down. Dean slid his fingers in between the denim fabric and the hot skin of Sam's hips. He pulled both the jeans and the boxers down in one quick, swift movement and they stopped at Sam's boots. Sam's cock jutted straight out, hard and unrelenting, glistening moisture gathering at the tip. Dean raised himself on his haunches, darting his tongue across his lower lip. 

 

Sam sucked in a deep, dry breath and Dean leaned forward, wrapping his fingers around the base of the shaft, lifting it upwards. Dean's warm calloused fingertips felt phenomenal on Sam's smooth skin, biting his lower lip and praying this lasted longer than he'd hoped. 

 

Dean wet his lips and licked a broad stripe from the top of Sam's balls all the way to the spongy pink head, making Sam twitch and moan loudly. Dean enveloped Sam's cockhead with his warm wet mouth and Sam was in proverbial heaven. Dean's sweet lips stretched around his thickness and Dean pushed himself farther, watching his teeth and making sure to glide his tongue across the bottom, tonguing the bundle of nerves at the tip. Sam let out a gasp that signified Dean was doing it correctly. 

 

Dean gathered his saliva, tightening his grasp on the base and pulling off, stroking Sam in earnest. Their eyes met, fierce passion passing silently between them as Dean chuckled while Sam let out another gasp. 

 

Sam tasted fantastic. Dean would have thought this was disgusting. He's felt bad for every person that's done it to him, but as his own hard cock throbbed in his jeans, he realized why it was so appealing. 'Cause it was _Sam._ A droplet of precome dripped from Sam's dick, and Dean lapped it up eagerly. He took the full member in his mouth and sucked his cheeks in, pulling off as agonizingly slow as he could. 

 

"F-fuck, Dean. That feels amazing." 

 

"That's nothing compared to what I'm gonna do to you, Sammy." 

 

Dean sucked a little harder closer to the head and sucked down, using his hand to gather saliva to the places he couldn't reach with his hot tongue. He jacked him off while he sucked him, Sam letting out little moans in the gasps coming from his lips. 

 

"Gonna come soon, if you don't stop." Sam spoke breathlessly. Dean pulled off with a slick pop, pumping his hand and licking at the stray saliva on his lips. 

 

"Sit back, on the bed." Dean pointed to the other side of the room. 

 

Sam toed off his boots and Dean stood for the first time in what felt like ages, his knees and ankles popping loudly. Sam wearily sat, watching Dean carefully glide over to him, adjusting himself in his pants on his way over. Sam sat, feeling vulnerable stark naked and suddenly worried about imperfections in his skin. Dean assured him with his hungry eyes that there was nothing to be worried about. 

 

Dean brisked over, instantly capturing Sam's lips, moaning into the taste of Sam's tongue against his own. The passion was heated, scorching flesh touching every inch of Dean. He sank to his knees, once again taking Sam into his mouth briefly. He pushed up on Sam's knees, and Sam fought back a bit, giving him a questioning gaze. 

 

"Do you trust me?" Dean stared up at Sam with wide, open eyes. Sam nodded quickly and went with the fluid motion of Dean's fingertips on his skin. He allowed his hips to be pushed up, laying back and setting his head on the cold wall behind them. 

 

Dean took Sam's cock in his mouth, gently swooping in and taking as much as he could before pushing himself farther, nearly gagging himself. He stifled the noise and tried again. And again. He pushed Sam's knees up to his chest and mouthed Sam's balls, making Sam gasp and take a deep breath. Dean kitten licked at them, taking a ball in his mouth before taking the other. Dean palmed the shaft of Sam's cock, pumping it until he ventured farther south with his tongue. Dean reached the underside of Sam's balls and Sam started moaning, the sounds caught in the tight vice grip of his throat. 

 

"Fuck, Dean." Sam gripped his fingers into the sheets beside him, leveraging himself on the edge of the bed, trusting his brother to hold him up. 

 

Dean slicked his way farther down, lapping his tongue in small tight circles until he reached the entrance of Sam's ass, kneading the muscle with the tip of his tongue. Sam's breathing shook, his chest heaving as he took in a sharp breath and exhaled slowly. Dean pushed his face farther in, burying his tongue as deep as possible into the tight channel. He gathered as much spit as he could, shoving it deep inside, licking up into the slowly opening entrance. Sam couldn't breathe, his eyes wide and fluttering. It felt so good, so fucking amazing, that he wasn't sure why they hadn't done this before. 

 

Sam felt a slick thickness against his entrance, dipping in. It felt odd, not painful or wonderful, but odd. Dean crooked his finger and thrusted it in and out, daring deeper with every swift push. Sam was uncomfortable, gasps coming in short bursts as he watched Dean's muscled arm fuck his finger inside. Sam was about to tell him to stop. He couldn't do this. It didn't feel good until he pushed up, and Sam's eyesight went blue. He hadn't realized he'd arched his back as Dean probed a place inside that he wasn't aware felt so fucking good. Sam began taking deep breaths and it felt like his lungs weren't getting enough as Dean fiddled with his rough prostate, gliding inside at exquisite speed. Sam threw his head back to the wall, the sting of the pain from hitting it clearing out as Dean picked up the pace. Dug deeper. 

 

Sam suddenly felt empty. Dean had stopped and Sam almost begged to fill him again. Needed to feel that again. Dean leaned forward and put his tongue to good use, the tight circles of the warm wet muscle returning and Dean was able to reach deeper now that he had been stretched. Little sounds came from Dean's mouth as he worked, the "ah's" making Sam rock hard. But Sam needed _more._ His tongue suddenly wasn't enough. 

 

"More, Dean. Please." Sam begged, lifting his head to watch Dean eat him out like a girl. Dean slotted his tongue flat against Sam's abused hole, flicking the tip just inside the entrance. 

 

Dean pulled back and wiped the saliva off his chin with the back of his hand, then lined up two fingers and pushed in. 

 

Sam winced, the burn was uncomfortable, but he could manage so long as Dean pressured that spot just like- 

 

That. 

 

Sam threw his head back with a wanton moan, jaw gaping and open, wordless sounds escaping. Dean smirked up at Sam and snickered. 

 

"So fucking hot when you do that, Sammy." 

 

_Sammy._

 

One of those things that he told Dean he hated but secretly blushed everytime Dean used it. When it rolled off his tongue this time, two fingers deep in his ass, a quiver ran up his spine, inciting a new kind of love for the nickname he'd heard his whole life. 

 

Dean pressured the spot and pushed in farther, his knuckles dragging across it everytime he pulled out. 

 

"S-Say it again." Sam stuttered, clenching tightly around the sheets. 

 

"That you're hot?" 

 

"No, the-" Sam let out another moan. "The other thing." 

 

"Sammy?" Dean pulled almost all the way out, and slammed back in. 

 

"Y-Yes. That." 

 

"Oh, _Sammy._ You like it when I call you that, don’t you?" A mischievous grin spread across Dean's features as Sam keened, Dean pushed in and Sam could hear his heart thundering in his ears . 

 

"Dean, I can't take much more." Sam whined, Dean picking up the pace and offering one final lick to the puckered entrance before standing himself up. 

 

He unbuttoned his shirt slowly, ignoring the torn shatters as he stripped it from his shoulders. Sam watched intently, eyes glued to the tanned expanses of skin that he could now touch, taste, and rake his fingers down. Dean's shoulders rolled as he pulled off his wife beater, kicking his shoes off simultaneously. He pulled at his jeans with expert timing, the rush of future actions fueling the once slow strip tease he'd envisioned in the past. He pulled the jeans down, his boxers following and he held his arms out. 

 

Fuck. 

 

Dean was beautiful. And not in the way you would look at a stranger and say "Yeah, you're beautiful." No. This.. this was different. Dean's eyes glowed, the emerald green almost enveloped by the wide black of his iris. The muscles of Dean's chest were defined by the patches of sweat that rolled down each ab, his hairless skin gleamed. His firm bowed legs were long, the muscles of his thighs prominent and his firm fat cock sat between them, hard and pulsing with his heartbeat. 

 

"Like what you see, _Sammy?_ " His nickname growled on the curve of Dean's lips and Sam moaned. 

 

"Just get the fuck over here before I rape you." 

 

Dean crawled on top of Sam slowly, his bottom half hanging off the edge of the bed. 

 

"Can't rape the willing, darlin'." Dean let out a hearty chuckle, bowing down to suck at the skin between Sam's neck and his shoulder, mouthing at the juncture. 

 

Sam rolled his head back and poked a finger into Dean's ribs. 

 

He felt Dean's hard cock aim for his hole, and he tipped his hips up to meet him in the middle, finally finding his aim. Dean sat his head at the entrance before pushing in and kissed Sam, his lips locked as he pressed his forehead to his little brother's.. He took a deep breath and raised his palm to cup Sam's cheek. He gradually pushed inside, he mouth dropping farther with every inch. Dean lifted his head to let out a loud moan, Sam's tight entrance giving him no resistance. It burned, sure, but it was so fucking worth it. Every time Dean moved an inch, Sam was in blissed ecstasy, the pressure applied to that wonderful spot with every throb from his dick. Dean gently pushed all the way inside and kissed Sam again, his tongue felt so good beside his own, twirling inside two hot mouths and Sam let out a gasp. 

 

"Move, please?" It was less of a question and more of a demand. Sweat dripped from Sam's forehead as he forced himself to relax, so he laid boneless on the bed, and extended his arms around Dean's shoulder. 

 

Dean pulled out, slowly, and for Sam, that was the best part. It felt better than when Dean pushed in. He felt the rough drag of Dean's hard cock against his soft insides and moaned when Dean was almost the whole way out. It felt like the built up pressure inside of a bottle being released, and every thought Sam had had suddenly disappeared. The only thing he could focus on at this point was his brother. 

 

He pulled Dean's neck to him as Dean pushed back in slowly, and pulled his brother's lips to his own. His open mouth let out silent moans as Dean fucked him steadily, Sam slowly adjusting to the intrusion to his body. Sam felt so full as Dean fucked inside, letting out cool breath across Sam's shoulder. 

 

When Dean fucked in, Sam felt the friction against his cock and he moaned. It all felt so good and he could come, just like this. His brother's hard cock pumping inside and his dick trapped between their furiously thrusting bodies. Dean leaned up on his arms and watched Sam's lax face, bending down to kiss his stubble rough cheek, then his bottom lip before catching Sam's mouth in an open kiss. Dean breathed into Sam's mouth as he pressured Sam's prostate, nailing it over and over. Sam laid his head back in a lustful gasp, raking his nails down the heated flesh of Dean's shoulderblades. 

 

"'M not gonna last much longer, Sammy." Dean gasped through parted lips, his love-drunk green eyes sparkled with the effort of holding himself up as Sam worshipped his skin with his fingertips. 

 

"Me neither. Come for me, Dean." 

 

Dean pushed in and suddenly Sam felt _fuller._ Dean's engorged cock thrusting deeper, harder, more frantic. Dean pushed in and began to spasm, letting out a gravel-rough moan through clenched teeth. Sam felt a rush of warm liquid inside and it felt good to be so full. Dean gave a last few spastic pumps before he pulled out slowly, dropping to his knees on the floor. 

 

Sam felt the emptiness like a ton of bricks until Dean lined his fingers back up to Sam's slick entrance. He pushed two fingers inside quickly, enveloping Sam's hardness in his warm mouth. Sam moaned as Dean pleasured his prostate, sucking his dick like he'd been born to do it. Dean slurped him down, thrusting his fingers in and out, over and over until Sam saw white, feeling his come slide down the back of Dean's throat as he swallowed around him. Sam was stiff, the aftershocks of his unbelievable orgasm washing over him like a hurricane, causing him to shake and shutter. Dean pulled his fingers out, and crawled up in the bed beside him. Sam curled into a ball, his arms to his chest and his knees tucked in, and Dean wrapped his arms around his brother. Sam laid his head on Dean's chest, listening to the thundering heartbeat thrumming in his ears. 

 

They were silent for so long. The calming breaths causing Dean's chest to contract and expand, acting like a soothing lullaby as the motion rocked Sam to a euphoric state. Sam inhaled deeply, the shocks running down his spine slowing and his body finally calming down. A rumble in Dean's chest signified his wakefulness, and he ran a hand down Sam's spine. 

 

"You with me?" Dean spoke quietly, as to not disturb the sleeping brother in his arms. 

 

"Mhm. I'm here." Sam mumbled, with a tired yawn. 

 

Dean took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. 

 

"Let's go home." Sam repeated again with a satisfied yawn. 

 

"Sure, Sammy. After you wake up. We'll go home." Dean stroked down Sam's spine and rest his chin on Sam's head, a dream of a possible future with his brother at his side playing in his mind a little differently this time. 

 

They slowly drifted off to sleep in the middle of hell, drenched in sweat and come, but they couldn't have cared less. But what else did you expect from the Winchesters? 

 

.END.

**Author's Note:**

> Guys! 25 down, 1 to go! I can't believe I made it all the way to "Y"!


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